You Don't Know Me
by GodzillasCaptor
Summary: Jeff the Killer x Myself in the future. My life hasn't been the best, but it was going pretty well. That is, until Jeff cam along. I really don't know what catagory to put this in so...


I sat with my back to the wall, and my gaze downcast. I was reading a lively, heartbreaking, book. Sighing, I murmured soft words to myself and tucked my short, naturally curly, hair behind my ear. A hand suddenly rested against my shoulder, and I looked up to see the one I presumed to be my one love... Brendan.

"Hey" I said closing my book and giving him a short kiss on the forehead. He gave me a gentle look, shuffling his feet against the concrete.

"Hi. How's school been?" He asked, and I shrugged.

"School is school, doesn't really change" I muttered, my mood turning sour. I stood, and he pushed me against the brick wall, giving me short kisses.

"Well, may I take the sour curse of school away from your mind?" He whispered, tapping my nose with a slim finger. I looked away, eyes downcast.

"N-no" I stuttered, my natural virgin choice making me shy. Sighing, I slipped his hands off my waist, and began to walk away.

"C'mon, I'll buy us some dinner. I need to head home soon... you know, homework" I said, tilting my head and gesturing to the pizza place a few parking lots away.

Brendan smiled, and wrapped his arm comfortably around my shoulders; unbothered by my rejection to sex. That's why I liked him, because he didn't force me into anything I didn't want to do _unless _nessesary.

Looks don't matter to me, unless you were shorter than me. That was my only peeve. But considering I was a stout five-foot-one woman, it almost never happened.

I yawned, noticing a man walking just a few car-lengths away from us. He has this awesome blood-schemed white hoody. I mean, it looked like actual blood! Brendan's arm tightened around me, and I could tell he was nervous.

The man had his hoody pulled up, and it looked like he was tinkering with a... a knife, I think, in his hands. Shrugging, I entered the store, and Brendan took his arm off my shoulders, grabbing his wallet.

"Nono, I'll pay" I said, getting out _my _wallet (Yes, girls can have wallets too). He chuckled, and gave me one of those soft looks. It irritated me for a moment, but the feeling was soon gone as a bright and cheery blonde piped up.

"What can I get you today?" She asked, eyes bright.

"Um... can I get a small pepperoni pizza with two medium Mountain Dews?" I asked, giving her a twenty. She smiled. "It'll be done in about five minutes!" She said, and I blinked in surprise.

Brendan and I sat down in the brightest corner of the store, and we just chatted about nothing serious until we got our pizza, ate, and left.

"You see that guy?" Brendan asked, tossing his head to the same awesome-hoodied man.

"Yeah..."

"I think he has been following us"

I snorted, and ducked inside of Brendan's Toyota Camry. "Bullcrap"

Something slammed into the cat, blood suddenly dripped from the windows, and Brendan's lifeless body lay over the hood of the car.

"The fuck?!" I shouted. "BRENDAN!" I screamed, and looked around for the murderer. I got out of the car, grabbing my small swiss-army-knife from my pocket and looking around.

"Come on you coward! Just kill my boyfriend and hide!" I screamed, rage blinding my gaze.

"TOO SCARED TO KILL A GIRL, BUT WILLING TO KILL HER LOVER?!" I cried out, and a man was suddenly in front of me. The familiar blood-schemed hoody identified him roughly as the same person who had followed me and Brendan.

"Coward!" I snarled, lashing out with the knife. The man easily stepped out of reach, and pinned me up against the car. His knife dragged mercilessly over my cheek, and I stiffened against the pain.

"Cry out, child. Let me hear your screams..." He purred, I met those eerily lifeless eyes of his, and that smile... that smile...

I refused to cry out until he dug his knife into my leg.

"Can't run now..." He whispered, voice rough. "Can't hide if you leave a trail..." The voice... it burned me. I cried out, jerking my leg away from the blade, only making the wound deeper, only making the pain worse.

"Cold-blo-" I was cut off as he dropped me, gaze frantic as policemen suddenly zoomed towards us.

"Shit!" He snarled, eyes blazing. He made a last cut across my neck, not deep enough to affect my breathing, but enough to hurt like hell. "This is not over, girl"

My head slammed against the ground, and I wondered for a minute, why would this happen to me?

Before he left, he whispered softly in my ear. "Go to sleep..."

-Time Jump-

Nightmares, nightmares, _bloody fucking nightmares_. My hands clawed at the thin blankets. I was at the hospital, I could feel the morphine drip in my arm... wrist... whatever.

I gasped, the sharp inhale of air making my throat hurt dully. I opened my eyes a crack, wincing at the bright white walls of the hospital. I groaned, sitting up slowly and letting the blood in my head settle before looking around.

My brother, Nick, sat across from me with those weird, sad, eyes of his. His dusty brown hair was greasy, as if he hadn't showered in days.

"H-How long have you been here?" I asked, my voice wavering.

"Three days" Nick replied, voice terse with consern. I tilted my head. Three days wasn't so bad.

"Brendan!" I gasped, suddenly remembering him. "My gods, is he...?" My brother gave a short nod, his jaw clenching.

I fell back into my pillow with a choking sob, my heart wretching with undeniable _rage_.

Nick kind of awkwardly patted by back sympathetically. He didn't know my pain, my rage, my grief. He didn't know how much trust, how much comfort, how much _protection_ I had felt with Brendan.

He didn't know anything at all.

I turned to look at Nick. Death wasn't a new thing in our lives. First it had been our best friends, then our grandfather, then our best family-friend... then our parents.

Our best friends were murdered when we were 8 years old, two months later our grandfather was ran over on his motorcycle, four years later our best-family-friend had the same fate.

Our parents, they burned in a horrible fire when I was 17, and Nick was 16.

I'm 19 now, still having to finish school, hold up the house payments, and deal with a horny teenage brother who brought his horny guy-friends over almost every day. I can't get passed one week it seems, without getting near-raped by one of his friends.

Now, now Brendan was gone.

The tears stopped shedding, and I looked at Nick.

"The police are going to come and ask you a few questions" He said softly, eyeing me up-and-down. "but only when you are ready."

I gave a soft huff, folding my arms. "I'm never ready, but right now is a good time"

Nick got up and stepped outside, two cops came in. One was obviously a sketch-artist.

"Taylor, we have come here to ask you a few questions about Brendan Ciruen's death, and the attack on you. Could you please describe what the murderer looked like?"

The policeman seemed nice enough, and I could see sympathy in the sketch-artist's gaze. I don't need pity.

"I- He..." I took a shakey breath. "He has pale grey... white, if you will, skin. A white hoodie with a blood-splatter scheme on it... h-he had no eyelids... his mouth was in a constant smile... sharp teeth..."

I stopped, closing my eyes. "He had a knife too, that was the only weapon I saw with him"

"Oh honey, if you don't feel well enough to continue, we will come back a different day" The sketch-artist said, looking down at the sketch she made with shock.

"No" I insisted. "Go ahead"

-Time Jump-

I was out of the hospital in a few weeks, a wicked scar now added to the collection of them that I had all over my body. I drove him with Nick silently sitting next to me. When I went to open the door, I was surprised to be met by one of my best (and few) friends.

"Taylor!" Tayler gasped, worry written all over her pretty face. "Are you alright? We were all so worried about you!"

I stiffened. "If I said I was alright, I would be lying" I murmured, giving Tayler a meaningful stare. We would have to talk later. If she knew me well enough, she would know that I am a _very_ vengeful person.

Afterall, it was my dad who taught me to shoot a gun correctly, and my mom who taught me throwing-knives.

"Nick said we could stay here while you were gone, you know... take care of the dogs and such" She said blandly, catching my subtle drift.

"Wait, you said 'we' ..." I paused. "Who else is here?"

"Emily, Sheyanne, Cheyanne, Tobias, Michael, El-" I cut her off sharply.

"Michael? God damn _Michael_?" I rose my voice slightly.

Tayler gave me a nervous look. "He just want's to see if you are okay"

"I don't give a shit, he _cheated _on me, _emotionally abused _me, and _fucking lied to my fucking face_" I snarled. "I get he is your boyfriend and all, but you _know_ what he did to me!"

"Taylor, that happened years ago. Just let it go and... and just continue on with life. Oh... and Andrew called."

I froze, about to sit on the couch. "What did he want?" I asked irritably, narrowing my eyes.

"The usual, though he kind of um... didn't take to well with you being in the hospital..."

I sat on the couch, leaning backwards and stretching out the lightly painful scar on my neck.

"What am I going to do with that man?" I mutter, closing my eyes. Tayler sat beside me, not touching me, not comforting me, just sitting there, waiting.

Another reason why I liked people like her.

"Can you call him for me? Tell him I'm home and whatnot, I really need to clean up" I mutter, my fingers trying to untangle my mess of hair.

"Yup, should I tell the others to leave or are you okay with them staying?" Tayler asked, tilting her head.

"They can do whatever, just tell them to stay off my laptop if they want to live past tonight"

Tayler nodded, and dissapeared into the kitchen and downstairs.

I made my way upstairs, taking a quick shower, and getting into new fresh clothes (black sinful T-shirt, Baggy jeans, and a baggy grey jacket). As I headed downstairs, I noticed it was eerily quiet.

"Taylor? Emily?" I asked, my voice bouncing off the walls.

I saw Emily's body first, lifeless against the ground as blood pooled around her. I gave a start, running downstairs... where I could hear sudden screams.

I was immediately covered knee's-down in blood. The same person who had killed Brendan was down there, dragging his knife slowly, deeply, across Eli's throat.

"Hey!" I shouted, picking up the nearest thing (a book) and throwing it at the murderers head.

He turned to me, and I froze, shocked by his face. He dropped Eli, and grabbed my wrist faster than I thought possible.

"Hey!" I screamed, twisting and kicking the weak joint behind his knee. He kept walking, unfazed, dragging me swiftly up the stairs, out the door, and into my car.


End file.
